Silence
by moviefanatic17
Summary: When a madman who uses unique tools to kill is tearing up the Big Apple, the best investigative team in town is called in to catch him...but will they all make it to the end? MS
1. Chapter 1

**Well, hello again! This is my first CSI:NY post. Basically, it's a story that can be fit in anywhere after Taxi, which there are spoilers for in here. This is going to be a full investigation, so unfortunatly, I may be wrong in some parts as I am not a CSI...I'll try my best not to completely B.S. my way through this...but most of the technical stuff will be in later chapters. So anyway, um...read, review, enjoy.**_

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_ She heard the sirens. They were everywhere, surrounding her whole world and all her senses. But one sound, the sound she desperately needed to hear in the chaos, was missing. _

**48 HOURS EARLIER**

Pushing through the familiar glass doors, Detective Stella Bonasera stopped in front of the silver desk. She stared intently at the black haired man who was currently on the phone and waited to be acknowledged. Though she was sure he noticed her come in; it was pretty hard to sneak up on a former Marine. After a few moments, the conversation was ended with a quick word, and the man turned to her. Deep, dark eyes met her own and he asked her to begin without saying a thing.

"Mac, we've got a body," she began. "Found it at an old warehouse downtown. No one noticed until today." She watched as he stood quickly, grabbing his suit jacket and putting it on. Stepping back, she followed him to the door and walked past when he waved her through before him. She knew not to wait and he soon caught up to her.

"Flack and Angell are making their way to the warehouse now," she continued as he silently moved beside her. She'd been around Detective Mac Taylor long enough to know that she shouldn't expect many words from him. He used action to get his point across and didn't say forty things when one would do. It was one of the traits she admired most about him.

"Do we have an ID?" he asked, making his way down the stairs and out the doors of the building. His truck was over in the side lot, and Stella followed him around the corner.

"Not yet," she started, walking up to the passenger side door. Unlike most people who liked to take a police vehicle to the scene, Mac preferred his own transportation. The truck wasn't brand new or too flashy, but Stella thought it mirrored his personality perfectly; tough, dark, commands respect, and sexy as hell. _Knock it off, Stella._ "No purse or identification on the body, but we'll learn more when we get there."

Mac nodded and pulled away from the lot. The drive over to the scene was made longer by the ever constant New York traffic. As they were stopped at a red light, Mac couldn't help but look over at a couple getting into a taxi. He was glad to see that they stepped inside without fear as they would have done months ago, when the cabbie killer was still on the loose. Mac's insides boiled when he thought of the son of a bitch who was responsible running away, and of himself chasing and not being able to catch him. As if she knew what he was thinking, Stella also looked in the direction of the cab.

"Good to see that again, huh?"

Mac turned to his partner and realized what she was talking about. She always could read him better than most, which would annoy him if it were anyone other than Stella. Nodding, he focused his attention to the light that turned green. "It's always good when a killer is put away."

"How's Reed doing?" Stella asked tentatively. Mac hadn't said much about the younger man since he had been injured by the cabbie killer. She knew that he blamed himself for not getting to the guy and for giving Reed an in on the case, but there was no way of explaining to him that it wasn't his fault, what happened to Reed. Reed was like a son to Mac, and seeing him get hurt had struck Mac hard. But all the hurt and all the pain was locked back inside, not showing it's face to the world. Stella had always been the one who could pry those feelings out, but even she could only get so far.

"He's okay," Mac said, taking a left into the abandoned block where the warehouse stood. "He's having a hard time talking still, but he's doing better." For a second, Stella could see a glimpse of hurt flash in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"He'll be fine, Mac," Stella said softly, laying a hand on his arm. The moment was brief, but long enough for her to show that she cared, and Mac felt something spark between them. But in that moment they had arrived at the warehouse, and Stella withdrew her hand.

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**Okay, heres a little something...In the shows I've seen, Mac drives a Chevy Avalanche or Silverado...well, I'm a huge Ford fan, so it would be against my religion to add that! I chose instead to make his truck a black 2005 Ford F150 with a chrome grill and door handles...it just screams Mac Taylor. Not that this is important to the plot, but hey, I've got to represent! And besides it might come up again...If you don't like it, imagine it's something else, as I've done. Anyway, next chapter's coming.**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	2. Chapter 2

A medical van and police cars were scattered around the area as Mac parked his truck and headed into the building, Stella by his side. At first glance, the area was completely and utterly desolate. As far as Mac could tell, no one had used this space in over three decades. Unfortunately, there were more of these places than he'd like there to be, with too many of them becoming dumping grounds. He couldn't even remember how many bodies had been found in buildings exactly like this, whether it be foul play or otherwise. Shaking off his thoughts, Mac walked past Flack, who was asking a man questions.

"So there were no other people in here when you found her?"

In Detective Don Flack's experience, most people who found a dead body were nervous, nauseous, any one of the above. And this guy, an inspector who was looking over the warehouse, was no different. "No, there...there wasn't. I came in here, trying to...to do my inspection...and I...I found that."

"What are you inspecting this building for?"

"The...the property has..." His eyes kept straying back to where Mac and Stella were bent over the body. Flack grabbed the man's arm and turned him around, switching views with the man. This seemed to help, and he worked out the rest of his answer. "Sorry...the property has been sold...this whole block has, in fact. There's some old apartment buildings and then the whole industrial complex...anyway, some industrial developer bought it and they hired me to come in and estimate costs of repairs to bring it back into operation. Want to know if it's cheaper to just level it or to go and fix it up."

"Alright, thanks, we'll just need a few more things and you can go," Flack said as he gestured to another officer, who took the man out of the building. After being sure he'd gotten everything he'd need, he walked over to where Angell was standing above Mac and Stella, as well as the dead body.

"Okay, we've got a white female, I'd say about mid-20's to early 30's," Stella said, standing, as Jennifer Angell wrote.

"Nothing to suggest sexual abuse. Bullet wounds here," Mac stated, gesturing to two bloody holes in the woman's clothes.

"Alright, we'll send in the guys," Flack said as he motioned Angell to follow him out and get the men to come take out the body. Stella watched them leave and noticed him put his hand lightly on the small of Angell's back to guide her out. Smiling to herself, Stella turned back to Mac. He was still examining the holes made by the bullets entering the body. As he moved to get a closer look at them, something white caught his eye. It was tucked into the woman's coat, and he carefully grabbed and unfolded the piece of paper.

"What have you got?" Stella asked, standing above Mac's crouched position and reading over his shoulder. "_Know your place_?" she read. She leaned closer in to Mac, waiting for an answer, and her hair brushed the side of his face. He turned his head up toward hers, and it would have been a sexually tense moment were it not for a dead body next to them and a killer on the loose. But even that didn't keep Stella's heart from stopping and Mac's brain from freezing.

"Question is," he said quietly, looking into Stella's eyes, "does he mean her or us?"

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**(ADD OPENING CREDITS HERE) ... haha, I know this chapter is short, but I wanted to make a cool ender line that they always have right before the opening credits. And just to let you know, Mac's last line about the 'Know your place' can be referring to three things. I won't tell you what cause that would take the fun away...so review, enjoy, and have a good one.**

** ~moviefanatic**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, it's me...I actually made you a chapter more than 1,000 words! For some reason, this is my first story where I can only write small chaps, but I'll try stoppin. Anyway, oh yeah, I made a typo on last chapter...I wrote in Jennifer Angell, and apparently it's Jessica Angell (I obviously haven't watched much Season 5 yet) so from now on it will be corrected. **

**Oh yeah, and I don't own CSI:NY...If I did, this story wouldn't be a fanfic!**

**Enjoy.**

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The place was quiet. Well, it normally was, but for some reason it was more silent than usual. Perhaps the cold weather had managed to cool tempers and in some small part was helping to keep the room empty. As much as Dr. Sid Hammerback wanted to believe that, he knew it wasn't true. People would always end up here, no matter how cold it was.

It was only when he turned on the lights of the morgue that he realized he was not alone. On his examination table was a bulky black bag that he was all too familiar with. A green folder sat on top, a sick report of the contents inside. Taking off his coat and putting it on the chair near his desk, he walked over and picked up the file. As he read Mac's well-known scrawl, he stored the basics in the back of his mind for when he'd begin the autopsy. _"Caucasian female, mid-20's to early 30's, no signs of sexual assault...bullet wounds to the chest, possible BFT."_ He walked back over to his desk and set the file on the top, open, in case he needed another look later.

Sid reached for latex gloves and carefully put them on. Walking back over to the bag, he slowly began unzipping it until the face of the contents showed. _Bruising,_he inwardly noted, looking at the face of the young woman whose life had been cut tragically short. Taking the zipper again, he continued until he was at the feet, noting the wounds in the chest that Mac referred to. Just as he had finished unzipping the bag, Sheldon Hawkes walked through the autopsy doors.

"Just in time," Sid said, looking up from the body. "I need a quick hand."

Hawkes looked reluctant, but quickly grabbed a pair of gloves and put them on. "I'm here to get the clothes from the vic, I thought you'd have them."

"I got in a bit later than I'd have liked," Sid stated grimly as he carefully lifted the victim by her shoulders, Hawkes at her feet. "The wife left early and the heater broke. I had to wait for a repairman to come in and get it fixed. With the weather being so awful, can't go a day without it."

Hawkes nodded in understanding as he gently laid the woman back on the table after pulling the bag from underneath. He looked at the body and kicked into work mode. "Her clothes look new, or at the least expensive." The victim looked as though she'd been out for a run, wearing capri-like track pants, running shoes, and a thick winter coat. "That rules out her living in the warehouse." Looking up at Sid, he said "Let's get these off and up to the lab."

While removing the woman's layers of clothing that were necessary to keep her warm while she was still alive, Hawkes could not find any sort of ID. But that was common, as killers often didn't want to give them an in on their victim's lives. After all the clothing was removed and a blood sample had been sent off with another tech for DNA, Sid and Hawkes were able to take a closer look at the killer's toll.

"Two bullets," Sid began, locating them with tweezers and dropping them into a pan with a metallic clink. "Looks like a 9 millimeter," he said, setting the bullets aside. Hawkes placed them into glass containers, and after labeling them, added them to the pile of things he needed to take upstairs. He continued listening as Sid checked over the body. "These bruises to the face," he said, almost puzzled, "are too big to have been caused by a fist and nothing sharp." He split his glasses and hooked them under his neck.

"What could have caused them?"

"I'm not sure," he replied. "If I would have to guess, I'd say something rounded off, like a baseball bat. But shorter," he mused almost as much to himself as to Sheldon.

"What do you suppose this is?" Hawkes asked from his place at the victim's ankles. He was pointing toward a sticky substance that was on the skin.

Sid returned his glasses to their place and walked over to see what Hawkes was talking about. "Looks like some sort of adhesive left on the skin. Best to take it up to trace," he said, going over to his table of tools.

"I'll leave you two alone then," Hawkes stated as he took the bagged up clothes and headed up to the lab.

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It was only about an hour later when Mac Taylor walked into autopsy, talking on his cell. "Okay, get Flack and Angell to head over to the vic's apartment. Make sure they..." he paused as Stella finished his sentence before he could. God, that woman knew him too well. Hanging up the phone, he stepped over to Sid who was just finishing the autopsy on the warehouse victim.

"I take it you've got an ID," Sid said, not looking up from his work. Mac nodded.

"Ann Roth, 32. Flack and Angell are heading over there now," he stated. "Got anymore for me?"

"Well, I took a liver temp which suggests she's been dead for about 52 hours," Sid rattled off.

"Putting time of death at 6:30 Wednesday morning."

Sid nodded and walked toward the victim's head. "My official C.O.D is the bullet wounds caused by a 9 millimeter pistol. One tore right through the aorta. Death would have been instant." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "Although I found traces of chloroform on and around the victim's mouth."

"So she was unconscious when she was shot?" Mac questioned.

"Well, I can't say that, but she was definitely unconscious at some point," Sid replied. "I've also been taking a closer look at the bruising to the face," he went on as Mac joined him in examining. "They were caused peri-mortem."

Mac's face was grim and he didn't like what Sid was saying. "So she was drugged, beaten, and then shot?" It wasn't a question, just a horrible statement of the facts.

Sid sadly nodded and walked over to his desk and the report, scribbled the rest of his findings in it, and took it back to Mac. "Oh, I also figured out what caused the bruising," he said, handing the file over. He didn't say, but instead let Mac read his findings.

Mac's forehead scrunched as he read over the M.E.'s conclusion and wondered if he had made a mistake, but quickly shook that idea. This was Sid, and he was pretty much a genius. He rarely made mistakes, and Mac put a lot of stock on his findings. But this was strange, even to a guy who had seen a lot. Looking up at the M.E, Mac could tell he wasn't making this up.

"She was beaten with a...rolling pin?"

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**Kinda random, I know, but don't worry...it all makes sense in my head and hopefully I'll put it into words that make sense, too. By the end of the story, you might get it. Anyway, have a good one.**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, this chapter is kind of small. I have a 10 page report and 30 note cards to fill out before Monday. Anyway, I'm backed up...I figured I'd just warn you all now, this story is being built on a oneshot idea that I had, I just figured a backstory to it would be much better. It might get fuzzy at times, but hopefully I can keep you all up to speed. **

**Unfortunatly, disclaimer is still in effect.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, much obliged. **

**Enjoy.**_

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Looking up at the M.E, Mac could tell he wasn't making this up.

_"She was beaten with a...rolling pin?"_

Up in the lab, Daniel Messer was looking things that were part of the warehouse victim. All of the garbage that had been taken from a nearby dumpster was down with the rookies getting sorted, except for an old wooden rolling pin which had been brought up per Mac's orders. It was definitely the weapon that caused to the bruising to Ann Roth's face.

It was incredibly slow, which meant the entire team was working the same case for a change. That rarely happened. _Not that I'm complaining_, Danny thought, looking over to where Lindsay Monroe was working. He liked working with her, if not to tease her then just to watch her. The more time he got with her, even if it wasn't the way he spend it, the better. Feeling his eyes on her, Lindsay looked up from the mass spectrometer.

"Are you going to work or just look at me all day?" she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. As much as she wanted to keep their work and their personal lives separate, she couldn't help but like that she got to spend more time with him at work as well as out.

"Sorry Montana, it's hard to concentrate on working with you looking at me like that," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he walked over to the printer with her.

Lindsay gave a scoff at his reply and went over the read out from the machine. As if sensing they'd gotten something, their fearless leader strode into the room unnoticed. "What have you got?"

"Mac," Lindsay said, almost startled that he'd walked in. Sometimes she swore that man was a ghost. Quickly recovering, she handed him the sheet. "The sticky substance we pulled from the victim's ankles is adhesive from duck tape. It seems our killer had her tied up at some point, then took it off." Mac nodded and looked pensive, so she continued. "I also got a fiber from Hawkes that was inside the goop. It's DuPont automotive carpeting."

"So it could be any make and any model of any year?"

Shaking her head, she explained. "This color is not standard. Given the number of dyes and treatments to this carpet, I'd say this was a custom ordered color."

Danny spoke up. "Auto shops keep records. We could call and find out which one swapped carpeting, but that could take a while. I mean the amount garages in New York..." he finished awkwardly.

"That, or you could let me finish," Lindsay cut into his thinking. Giving Danny a smug look, she continued. "There was also traces of dimethicone." At the men's blank looks, she added, "It's the ingredient in a entirely new, trial automotive carpet cleaner and protectant." Catching onto her point, Mac nodded.

"And only one garage has rights to use it?"

"Exactly. Lower East Garage, 34th and Edwards."

Whipping out his cell, Mac dialed for the operator. "That's good work, Linds," he said quickly before turning around and silently making his way out. Danny turned back to Lindsay and gave her a playful glare.

"Show-off."

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**So yeah, this chapter was pretty much just some D/L for everyone...Oh, and this is before he proposed and before she said she was pregnant (if I just spoiled that for you, oops). By the way, dimethicone is not in auto cleaner, it's in Head & Shoulders (pause to let you all run and check your bottles). Yeah, I don't know what is in auto cleaner either. **

**If the sticky stuff with fiber seems familiar, it probably is. I borrowed it from NCIS episode "Frame-Up". Great episode, check it out...**

**I don't hold a grudge, so if you don't review, GO SCREW YOURSELF! Nah, just kidding. Have a good one. **

** ~moviefanatic17**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, well I finally got around to putting on another chapter (getting onto the internet is a miracle in itself) so here it is.**

**CSI: NY is not mine, because if it was I could afford internet that actually works. **

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Don Flack, Jr. walked into the high-rise apartment buildings and gave a low whistle. _What money could do_, he thought as his shoes clacked across the marble floors. He'd just finished asking the doorman some questions about the Ann Roth that was found in the abandoned warehouse. Flack quickly flipped his black notepad back open to check his notes. _High profile exec., comes and leaves alone, runs every morning 6 a.m., back by 7, private car to work. _Shutting the book, Flack took in the statues and antique wooden tables that probably cost more than a year's worth of his rent. Not really his style, but the place had class. He now knew that the victim was obviously getting some serious coin, being a CEO, and when that was the case, the death was almost guaranteed to be about money.

"What a place, huh?" he drawled to a woman with her back to him, long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. She turned and looked at him questioning.

"Thinking about a move, Flack?"

Flack responded with a short laugh as they began walking to the elevator. "Yeah, Jess. Right after I win the lottery and quit my job." His hand unconsciously made its way to the small of Angell's back as they walked inside. Ordinarily, she'd break a man's arm if he tried to do what Flack was now, but when Don did it, she found that she didn't mind so much.

Flack, Angell, and an overweight and clearly drooling manager stepped into the elevator. Seeing as each floor was an apartment, the 'lock' to each door was the elevator. Only the key holder for each could get into their apartment. Personally, Flack thought they should just stick to doors and deadbolts. Once he was done, the manager stepped to the back of the elevator to stand next to Flack. He thought the manager seemed distrustful and sent him a glare that would burn through a foot of ice. Though that could have been because the man wasn't even hiding his gaze at Angell's backside, wearing a goofy smile all the time.

Just as Flack was about to call him on it, the doors dinged open and Jess strode out of the elevator. The slime ball tried to follow her out closely, but Flack grabbed him by the back of his coat and pulled him back into the elevator.

"Hey, I was just seein' if..."

Flack glared. "Yeah, if we need you, we'll call." Smacking the down button, he watched the doors of the elevator shut on a very pissed off manager.

Angell pretended not to notice the exchange, but couldn't help but catch the malice in Flack's words. Knowing she couldn't have him going and fighting off every guy that looked at her, she walked over to where Flack stood by the elevator. "You know, I could have handled him."

"What?" he asked, deciding to play the dumb card. Shaking her head, Angell headed into the next room.

Watching her go, Flack finally noticed the beautifully decorated apartment. Windows covered the walls and expensive furniture screamed from every corner. The windows were not covered, giving spectacular views to the surrounding buildings. As he walked into the next room, he saw Angell looking around the living room.

"There's no sign of the crime happening here," she said, sweeping back to Flack. "Maybe Mac and Stella would have more luck here, because as far as the obvious signs go, there are none." As Angell searched the apartment, Flack looked out the large windows. He had a feeling they wouldn't find what they were looking for here. Hearing Angell's returning footsteps, he realized she was carrying a picture frame. As she held it out to him, he noticed the victim along with a male at some sort of beach. But the doorman said he didn't know of any man she was seeing.

"We've got to find this guy."

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Mac Taylor was sitting in his office waiting for a phone call. The auto shop was checking their records and hopefully the carpet had been installed within the last six months, otherwise they were out of luck. He looked down to his wrist and read the time. _12:49_. Sighing, he sat back in his chair, then quickly leaned toward the computer again. After Flack had called, he'd decided to do a little digging on Ann Roth. He'd practically made his team write "dig deeper" on an imaginary blackboard, so he knew he should practice what he preached. It was better than sitting there thinking about Reed. Mac knew the kid was tough, but going through something as traumatic as what happened to him was hard to forget. He knew from experience.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. The subject could be brought up a million times by someone else and he wouldn't find himself thinking it over at all, but once from her and he was re-examining every detail. How did she do that to him?

As if he was being taunted, the curly haired beauty had just looked into his office on her way from talking to someone in the lab. He waved her into his office before looking back to his computer screen.

"Mac?" she questioned, noticing the strange look on his face as she walked in. He cut straight to business, more for reminding himself to focus on work than for informing her.

"I've been looking into our vic's personal file," he started, turning the screen to where she could also see it. "Flack was right; she was the CEO of Kendall Industries, major electronics company."

"A woman in that kind of position must have been worth a lot of money. Did Flack and Angell pick anything up from the scene?"

"They got a picture of the vic and a man, but the doorman at the vic's apartment says he didn't know she had a boyfriend. Lindsay got a name and Flack's running him down."

Stella nodded and opened the folder she was carrying. "Sid got some substance from around the victim's mouth, the results just came in," she said, reading down the page. "Trichloromethane."

Mac's face lit in understanding and he leaned forward as Stella sat down across from him. "Chloroform. Not sure we'll get far on that, it's pretty common."

"Well, there's the note," Stella said

"Yeah, _know your place_," Mac remembered.

"Maybe Roth saw something she wasn't supposed to, or getting into business she didn't belong in." It was possible that she'd started something, but looking at Mac's face, Stella knew he didn't really think the same.

"The rolling pin is bothering me," he stated, thinking. "There was no evidence that the pin would have first been in the warehouse, which makes me believe the killer brought it from home."

"So we've got the rolling pin, the note, the chloroform, and the red carpet fiber," Stella said, her forehead crunching in confusion. "How the hell do they relate?"

Mac chuckled at her expression. He loved her in these moments when she was working out a problem that just wouldn't come to her. Wait, _loved_? In that moment the phone on his desk rang, creating a welcome distraction.

"Taylor."

"Hi, Detective, this is Jim from East Side," the voice on the other side of the line began. "We got the records on that question you asked." Mac jotted a few notes as the man talked, then thanked him and hung up. Tearing the paper from the pad on his desk, he walked around it and went to the door while filling in Stella.

"Only one vehicle came into East Side for the custom red and it was two weeks ago. I'll have Danny check it in the DMV, get a name."

"The company didn't have one. The guy paid cash advance, just called himself Dale."

Stella snorted and walked with Mac to the lab. "Sounds shady already."

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**Yeah, there's a lack of Smack-age going on in this chapter, I know, but I'm planning on putting some in. There's a really cool scene that I wanted to fit in but just couldn't make work, so it may show up in the future...prolly next chapter...well, thanks for readin and reviewin, and have a good one.**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, its me. This chapter is a major filler, so not much facinating in this one. I was going to combine two chapters into one, but then I figured I'd just let it go on. **

**I don't own CSI:NY...if I did, I could afford a new bed, seeing as mine is being held together by ratchet straps and planks of wood.**

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As the duo walked into the room, Danny looked up from his computer monitor. He'd been pulling any particulate he could find from the rolling pin, but so far there was nothing. This murder was just too random. There were leads, but they pointed in a million directions. Though Danny was sure the woman's job had something to do with it. Just as he was considering the possibilities, Mac's voice broke into his thoughts.

"I need to you to pull up the DMV record for this license," he said, handing over a piece of paper with a scrawled set of numbers and letters.

Danny took it and turned back to his computer. "Sure, no problem," he said in his infamous New York accent. Pulling up the DMV page, he typed in the plate. While the computer did the work, he turned back to Mac.

"This for the warehouse case?" Mac nodded and noticed the rolling pin on the table.

"Did you get anything from the pin?" he asked.

"Nothing useful, just common dust and mildew, which makes me think it hasn't been used in a while or was stored in an older building. I'm analyzing it further, but there's just not much." Hearing the ding of the computer, he turned back and read off the report that popped up. "Let's see, the van is registered to a veterinarian clinic...1654 W. 43rd...wait a minute," he said, thinking back to why that street sounded familiar. Then he remembered. "The victim's apartment complex was just a few doors down from this place." He said, now sure of where he'd seen that address before. Just then, another file popped up on the computer. "Oh," he exclaimed. "The van was reported stolen two days ago by the owner," he stated, reading the report.

"We've gotta ask the owner wher..."

"Where it was stolen, when exactly, and who had access...yeah, I know. Me and Montana'll take this one, Mac," Danny finished. Mac nodded and Danny went to get Lindsay.

Stella turned to Mac and crossed her arms. "So what else is left?" She could think of a million things she'd like to do with him right now, alone on a quiet Saturday. Shaking the thought from her mind, she tried to concentrate on the date she had this afternoon, after work. _Ross...Ross....NOT Mac...Ross...Ross... _She kept up the mantra in her head, but the rebellious part of her mind kept picturing Mac taking her to dinner and all the things that happened afterward. She was brought out of her dirty thoughts by Mac's deep voice which, more than once, had inspired said thoughts.

"I'm not sure; this case is just too random." Just then, Mac remembered what day it was. "Stel, isn't this your weekend off?"

Feeling slightly awkward, she nodded and said, "Yeah, I didn't have anything going on really, so I came in. I've got to go meet Ross in," she checked her watch, "about forty minutes. I'll see you later, Mac," she said, and quickly walked away before she did something stupid. _Like tell him you came in on your Saturday off to check how he was doing and that you didn't want to wait until Monday to see him again? Yeah, that'd be it. _

_Ross? _Mac tried to ignore the ugly green head of jealousy that rose in his chest. Stella had the right to go out with anyone she wanted. But ever since that bastard Frankie, Mac worried about Stella's dates. The way she looked on that floor, bruised and bleeding, was a sight Mac never wanted to see again. He never wanted Stel to feel that kind of pain ever again. Walking back to his office, Mac tried to push Stella and her date from his mind and focus on the case. _Tried. _

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Danny followed Lindsay into the clinic and immediately recognized the older man standing behind the desk from the license picture. Danny didn't look that close at the man's license, but guessed he must have been in his upper fifties. He had a kind face and seemed like a very nice man, which was probably why he became a vet. Walking up to the desk, Danny grabbed his badge.

"Excuse me Doc," he said, showing him his badge, "I'm Danny Messer, this is Lindsay Monroe. We're from the crime lab."

The old man looked at the badge. "I swear I did not sell that catnip. If you found my prints, it's that damn Garfield setting me up," he said seriously, then cracked a smile. Danny laughed as well, and then focused again.

"No we're not here about catnip. You reported your van stolen?"

"The crime lab is trying to find my van?" the man asked, slightly stunned. He came from around the desk and walked up to a waiting owner holding a tiny puppy in her arms. "That's a little minor for you guys to work, isn't it?" Taking the squirming pup, he set it down on the scale and tried to get it to stay still. "Easy boy," he soothed.

Danny could hear Lindsay's _'aww' _behind him, but kept questioning the vet. "We need to know exactly when the van was stolen, along with anyone who had access to it."

The vet handed the puppy back to the owner, and pointed her into a room. As she left, he turned back to the two. "Sure thing, follow me."

Taking them behind the desk, he walked through a stock room of some sort and out a back door that lead to an alley. "Right here's where I keep the van," he said. "I came out here Thursday night; I was gonna lock it up. You never know what people will steal these days. I open the door and it was gone. It had to be around," he said, looking up at the sky, trying to remember, "oh, about 8. Tyler had just headed out and I was finishing up." He waved them back into the storeroom and closed the door tightly. Lindsay looked at the shelves full of bottles, some with angry red labels. She recognized some names, but turned back to the old man when he began speaking again.

"Now, as to your second question, I don't employ that many people. We run a small operation here. On weekends, it's me, my wife, Tyler Robbins, and John Fish. During the week, it's just me and Tyler, but I assure you, none of my people stole my van." The vet lead them out the door and back into the lobby. Walking back to the front of the counter, a blonde haired man with dark eyes was checking a man holding a fuzzy cat in. The tag on his chest read "Tyler", and he looked up to the Doc when he came around. "Tyler, these are Detectives Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe."

Tyler looked at Danny and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Detective," he said, shaking Danny's hand. He seemed willing to ignore Lindsay, and Danny looked confused, but didn't comment. Instead, he thanked the Doc, told him they'd let him know if they found his van, and made to leave the clinic. Just as they were walking out, Danny turned back around.

"Hey, Doc, does the name Ann Roth ring a bell?"

The man thought for a moment, then shook his head. Danny could tell he had no clue.

-----

"So we're back to nothing," Lindsay said, curling her coat around her in the chilly winter breeze. Danny noticed she looked cold and threw his arm around her.

"Yeah, pretty much."

* * *

**Well, my moment I was trying to work in last chapter should show up next chapter. Thanks for the reviews, and have a good Tuesday.**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

The door shut and Flack walked up to the one way window. He could tell that the boyfriend was really shocked, unless he was just a great actor. Angell turned toward Don and studied his face, trying to see inside his mind.

"That was genuine. No one could pull off an act that convincing," she said, looking back to Sean Kollins. He'd now put his head down and his whole body was racked in sobs. Angell pitied him; Flack could hear it in her voice.

"Yeah, I know. Still, with the way this case is, we can't rule him out." Angell nodded and Flack motioned her out of the room. Along the way, he told one of the nearby officers to let Kollins out.

Angell followed Flack out to his desk, where he bent over to dig through mountains of paper. Angell looked around his 'domain'. Aside from his huge stacks of paperwork, there was nothing that showed of the man that sat here. No family pictures, no birthday cards, no nothing.

"You need to get some pictures in here, Don," she stated.

"Well Jess, if you want, you can send me some...though I doubt they'd stay here long. See, there are a lot of guys here who wouldn't mind seeing you...," he started, turning to her with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Angell moved forward and covered his mouth with her hand, effectively stopping the rest of the sentence... along with time. For a moment, it was the two of them; Angell's hand slowly moving away from his mouth, his breath hot on her skin, and Don looking down on her face. For a moment, she saw his eyes darken and her breath hitched in her throat. _Oh boy..._

The slamming of a door seemed to awaken each of them that they were standing in the crowded police building, surrounded by about fifty other people. Angell dropped her hand and quickly stuffed it in her pocket. Flack turned back to his desk and grabbed his phone.

"I, uh, gotta call Mac," Flack said, grabbing out his phone. Angell felt awkward, but nodded, and with a quick 'See you later', she was gone. Flack sat down in his chair, closed his eyes, and let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. _Damn door. _

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

About forty minutes and two phone calls later, Mac was still stuck with no leads. Flack and Angell had interrogated Sean Kollins, with no results. The boyfriend had been truly shocked to hear about the death of his girlfriend. Besides that, his alibi checked out. And according to Danny and Lindsay, the vet clinic didn't provide many answers.

_Okay, so we've got a young, high profile business woman. She was drugged with chloroform, which is common, not much useful there. She was beaten with a rolling pin, which has no symbolic meaning to Ann Roth. She was shot twice, using a nine millimeter. And all we have to go on is a red carpet fiber from a van that was reported stolen. _

The case just had too many loose ends. According to the people at Kendall Industries, Roth was well liked with few enemies, and the few she had all checked out. _Something is missing. _

Bringing him out of his thoughts was a bombshell in a black dress walking past the windows. Her hair was put up, but a few curly strands fell around her face. She was wearing a light jacket of some sort that covered her arms. But what was most stunning was the way her eyes twinkled. Mac had to remind himself to blink when she walked in the door, and quickly swallowed to re-wet his throat. Her heels made a clicking noise across the floor and she came to a stop in front of his desk.

"Well, Mac, I'm going to be heading out," Stella said, satisfied to the look in his eyes. But as quick as she'd caught that look of want, it was replaced just as quickly.

"You do know it's about freezing out there?" he said, motioning to the frosty city out the window.

"Yeah, but I only plan on being outside between the cab and the building." Seeing that Mac was not convinced, she added "I'll be fine, Mac. I'm a big girl."

Mac didn't tell her the real reason he wanted her to wear something a little less..._open_. He didn't want anyone looking her like he'd been just seconds before, including _Ross_. But she wasn't his to influence, and he simply nodded his head. "Have a good night," he said before turning back to his screen.

Stella stood a few more seconds, looking at the stone face of her boss. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and she guessed he probably hadn't. "Mac," she said, staring at his face until he had to look back at her. "Promise me you'll get some rest. This case isn't going to go anywhere for the night." He promised and she walked out through the glass doors. Walking back to the lockers to grab a thicker coat, she knew he lied.

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The rest of the day was very uneventful for Mac, as he caught up on paperwork and tried to make some sort of connection between Ann Roth's life and the evidence that was found. Being a Saturday night in December, the building was fairly quiet. Danny and Lindsay had gone home, but he was sure they were probably sitting in a restaurant somewhere. He knew their relationship was inevitable, and was just glad it didn't interfere with their work skills. Flack and Angell were probably either doing paperwork for other cases or went home.

He was analyzing the rolling pin, trying to find any DNA other than Roth's that they'd missed when his phone rang. Looking down at the caller ID, he didn't recognize the number.

"Taylor."

A raspy, broken voice responded on the other line. "I've got another." Mac was stunned for a moment, but waited for the voice to continue before he spoke. There was a pause and Mac took the time to type in the phone number to trace the call. "She should have known. She shouldn't have tried...she should have known her place." And with a harsh click, the line went dead.

* * *

**Haha, well, I got a request put in some more Flack/Angell, and there's my attempt. Pretty much the rest of the story is only gonna be Smack, but I'll try to add little hints of the other two...**

**By the way, some people were wondering when this is supposed to be...I think it would go between 'Taxi' and 'Hostage'...Lindsay isn't pregnant (not that I'm against it) and Flack and Angell aren't dating yet. **

**I've got to say I was kinda surprised at the reviews I got for last chapter, I kinda thought it sucked, but apparently you, the readers, didn't. Well, thanks for them, and keep em coming...good news, we've got a freeze out tommorow (for all our warm weather readers, thats a snow day with no snow...the temp is too cold to go to school) so I'm gonna try to finish the whole shebang in between cleaning and making firewood, but I'm still gonna post one at a time. Well, enjoy and have a good night...**

**~moviefanatic17**


	8. Chapter 8

She was dancing; gently swaying across the dim floor. The arms that enclosed her were warm and strong, holding her just right. Her head was on his chest, and she could feel the smooth fabric stretched across it on her cheek. He had his chin resting on her head, and Stella felt she could stay like this forever. His deep voice began filling in the words to the music that was playing.

_Call me unpredictable_

_Tell me I'm impractical_

_Rainbows I'm inclined to pursue_

_Call me irresponsible_

_Yes I'm unreliable_

_But it's undeniably true_

_I'm irresponsibly mad for you..._

And as she swayed in his arms, him singing gently into her ear, she felt like they were truly the only two people in the world.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?" Someone was cutting into their dance and she didn't like them. She tried to focus on that blissful moment. Ignoring the voice, she looked up into her partner's face and he dipped her low. They stayed like that for a few seconds, their lips only inches apart. Stella could see something in his dark eyes and she closed her own, waiting to feel his lips on hers, but they never came.

Stella re-opened her eyes to the dim light filtering into the backseat of a cab. It was 3:30 a.m. and she'd just been coming home. Ross had been kind, telling her about his job and other things while they were at the restaurant. He was a gentleman, even taking her coat at the door. After dinner, they'd gone to a play, but Stella really didn't get into it. After politely rejecting his offer to go back to his place, she'd gotten a cab for the long trip back to her apartment. Ross was relatively attractive, but Stella was finding she preferred dark hair to blonde.

"Ma'am, we're almost there," the driver said, looking back at her. He gave her a smile, then turned back around when the light turned green. Stella wiped the sleep from her eyes and was about to get her things together when her phone went off. She looked down and saw that it was Mac.

"Mac, you've got to stop calling me in these early hours," Stella said sleepily. She hoped he would chuckle, but he didn't.

"Stella, we've got another body." Immediately, Stella became serious.

"Did someone find it?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Stella could hear a car door slam. He must have just gotten the news.

"No. I got a call from our killer. I'm coming to pick you up..." he began, but Stella cut him off.

"No, that's okay. I'm already in a cab. Same place?"

Mac seemed momentarily startled, but there was no hint in his voice. "Yeah, I got a fix on his phone. He probably left it there so we'd find the body."

"Okay, I'll meet you there." Hanging up the phone, she gave the cab driver an extra twenty and told him to step on it.

---

She was still in a cab? Mac tried not to think of the reasons why she'd still be out this late, but found they all made his blood boil, and instead focused on driving. The victim was definitely female, and once they got an ID they could determine whether or not these were linked murders. The more they looked at the evidence, though, Mac began thinking that this was a serial killer.

With the lights on in his truck, Mac made it to the scene in about fifteen minutes. He was grabbing his kit out of the backseat when a yellow cab pulled up. In the warehouse's dim security light, he could make out Stella's figure, and noticed she was still wearing her dress. She'd taken his advice and grabbed a warmer coat, but still looked like she was freezing.

Walking up to Mac, Stella tried not to show how cold she was. Even with her coat, the subzero temperatures ate through the cloth and went right to the bone. Shivering slightly, she stopped in front of Mac.

"Have you gone in yet?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of herself. Mac shook his head and set his case back onto the ground. Taking off his black woolen coat, he walked behind her and threw it over her shoulders. "Mac, you can't take off your coat," she argued. "I'm fine, really."

"No, you take this," he said. "Let's get in there."

Stella nodded and put her arms through the coat, Mac's scent enveloping her. She mentally shook her head and began to take a step toward the door, but her night of surprises was far from over. Her heel caught ice and she was soon flailing and screaming. Closing her eyes before the impact, she waited to feel the sting of cold snow and ice. But before she hit the ground, she felt a strong arm loop around her back and another grab her hand. Opening her eyes, she found was staring straight into Mac's. Their lips were only inches apart, as he seemed to have dove forward to catch her in her fall. To anyone else, it would look like they'd been dancing, but Stella was having a strong case of deja vu.

_Call me unpredictable_

_Tell me I'm impractical..._

Mac was frozen, staring into Stella's face. He wanted so much to just kiss her, right now. But they had a job, and there were about a dozen other people around. Besides, he didn't like to think of the possible consequences of his rash action. Slowly bringing her back up, he made sure she was standing, then backed away. Stella was turning red, which was unlike her, and Mac could feel the heat rising in his own cheeks.

"Thanks," Stella muttered, embarrassed as hell. Not only had she made a fool of herself by needing his coat and needing to be rescued by him, she almost tried to make out with her boss right here at a crime scene as well.

Mac picked up his case and noticed that Stella was hesitant to take another step. Throwing his arm around her shoulder, he helped her across the accumulated ice in front of the door and into the warehouse. _This is one hell of a night. _

**_____________________________________________________________________________**

**Hey, tell me, how many thought the beginning was Ross? Haha, well you might be glad to know that this story will NEVER be one of those that stops at chapter 5 or something and never finishes because I have finished writing the main chunk of the story...now all that's left is the end few chapters (which I don't have any sort of plan for)**

**Speaking of finishing the story, there is pretty much no F/A or D/L in the upcoming chapters. My mind decided it wanted to follow one track, so while it's not written here in the story, KNOW THAT IT IS GOING ON. **

**I realized this part kind of parallels the F/A I put in the last chapter, but whatever, I love this idea. Heels SUCK on ice. (My 1-2 experiences with heels have never been fun)**

**The song is 'Call Me Irresponsible' by Frank Sinatra...while I do not think Mac is unreliable or chases rainbows, this song just came up on my computer and it fit.**

**Oh, next chapter has Adam in it, one of my favorite characters that I completely forgot about, and will be dedicated to YOU if you can tell me in what episode Mac and Stella are at at a dock near shipping crates and get shot at or something (I honestly don't know what happens, that's why I'm asking you). **

**Reviews are still appreciated**

**Thanks much, moviefanatic17**

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	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, thanks for the reviews for the last chapter...yeah, I guess it was obvious that the guy in the beginning was Mac, but hey, I'm not gonna put Stella with some other guy when there's so much good SMackness! Haha, this one goes out to fruitbat00, lizzytilley, and lily moonlight for the help on my question...I just hope that the chapter I dedicate to you guys isn't the one you end up hating! That'd be akward... **

**I always forget to do this, so here it is...I dont own CSI:NY.**

* * *

The victim was Kristin Lockary, a mechanic at a shop downtown. The killer had decided to leave the woman's ID on top of her body, like an offering to them. This time there was no note left with the body, but Mac didn't think there would be. The killer was obviously getting more confident by actually calling him up and personally telling him that he'd killed again. He'd also left a cell phone with the body: the same one he'd used to call Mac.

"Damn it, it's cold out here!" Adam Ross said, walking into the warehouse and rubbing his gloved hands together. "First scene I've been to in weeks and it's just got to be when it's negative forty out here. Why did I ever leave Arizona?" he continued, talking more to himself than to anyone. Jittering, he muttered "Keep moving, keep the blood flowing..."

Mac gave a small smile and shook his head. "Adam, check to see if there's anything the killer would have left, other than the obvious," he said, motioning around. The younger man nodded quickly and turned back around, stuffing his hands under his arms in an attempt to stay warm.

"Well, TOD is going to be hard to determine seeing as it's been so cold," Hawkes told Mac as the older man crouched down beside him.

"Unless the body was only dumped here, it couldn't have been more than 32 hours. We were here Friday night to get the first body. She fought back," Mac commented, grabbing the vic's hand. "There are traces of skin under her nails." Taking a tool, he scraped the skin out and into a jar. "We'll have to see if we can get a hit with DNA."

Hawkes nodded and continued. "I can give you cause of death, though." Opening her coat, he pointed out where two bullets had entered the victim's body. "As far as I can tell, it was a nine millimeter, same gun as last. She's also got a few very strange burns on her face," he said, and Mac moved toward the victim's head.

"Some sort of triangle with circles inside..." he said, examining the burns closely.

"Those are from an iron," Stella said, walking up behind Mac. "I'd recognize them anywhere."

"Don't irons need electricity?" Hawkes questioned. "There is no power running to the building."

Stella shook her head. "Not necessarily. They make battery operated craft irons."

Mac was giving her the famous 'Taylor Gaze' which meant he knew what was said was right, but he didn't like it. "This guy's got a thing for housewares."

"But why?"

Mac stood back up and shook his head. "Let's get her out of here," he said to Hawkes, who nodded and got two men who brought in a stretcher. "We'll have to look up her background back at the lab. Adam," he shouted, looking for where the other man had gone. Walking back toward the door, Mac once again put his arm around Stella and helped her over the ice.

Stella tried to ignore how good she felt with Mac's strong arm holding her close, and tried to remind herself that he was just making sure she didn't fall and make herself look stupid. Resisting the urge to cuddle into his side, she instead busied herself with looking around the complex for Adam. Spotting him in the shadows of a building across the way, she pointed at him. "Mac, over there."

Adam had been shining the area with his flashlight when something caught his eye. The bright white object seemed out of place in the grimy compound. Getting closer to it, he realized it was a rag that was frozen into a ball. It had obviously been soaked with some liquid earlier, and chances were high that it was chloroform.

Just as he was placing it into an evidence bag, he saw Mac walking Stella over with his arm around her waist.

"Hey good to see you two have finally...uh..." he trailed off, seeing the look on Mac's face and Stella's small blush. _Stella never blushes. _Clearing his throat, Adam decided to tell them about the rag instead. "I...uh, found this," he said, holding up the bag. Mac took his arm from around Stella and grabbed it from him. "I'm pretty sure the liquid that froze to it is chloroform."

"How can you be sure?" Stella asked, her blush gone. Adam wasn't sure if she was really asking or just retaliating for his jump to conclusion.

"Well, there's only one set of non-police vehicle tracks leading into this area, and it obviously just got here. It's a little cleaner than everything else. And," he continued, now on a roll, "it can't have blown far, as it would have frozen and not ended up here." They still didn't look sure, so he sighed and added, "I'm going to test it at the lab just in case."

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**Haha, I couldn't help myself, I had to put in a clueless Adam. This one was kinda short...I was dividing what I already wrote into chapters and I had one hell of a time trying to break up my main scene, as that is what this whole story has been based off of. ****I JUST BAGGED SEASON ONE ON EBAY!! haha! I'm pretty excited, now I can add it to my seasons of Dirty Jobs, NCIS, Bones, Ice Road Truckers, M*A*S*H, Family Guy, and the normal CSI (talk about a mash up)...but anyway, thanks for reading and have a good night...**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	10. Chapter 10

**I don't own it. **

* * *

Back at the lab, Mac was sitting in his office with Stella, going over the case. They had the background on Lockary, but the substances they'd found were still being analyzed, leaving the two with nothing to do but compare the victim's lives.

"It's all so strange," Stella stated, setting the file back on Mac's desk. "Our vic's have no common connections, and as far as I can tell, their paths have never crossed. It makes no sense."

Mac leaned back in his chair and sighed, deciding to voice what was swimming in his head. "Our first victim was a successful business woman, beaten with a rolling pin, and left with a note saying _Know your place_. Our latest vic was a mechanic, burned with an iron, and the killer told me she shouldn't have been so curious and should have known _her_ place. What does that say to you?"

Stella's brow scrunched and she replied "Sexist psycho?"

Mac nodded. "That's what I've been thinking. There is no known similarity between these two women except the fact that they both held jobs typically left for men."

"Yeah, maybe in the fifties!" Stella said, anger building inside her. She herself had worked through the typically male dominated justice system to become one of the best damn detectives in New York. She knew what these women went through.

Sensing her anger, Mac said "I'm just saying what I think this freak thinks, Stel. The rolling pin and the iron symbolized a woman's role...cooking, cleaning," he rattled off.

"So what do we do?" Stella asked, fire in her eyes. "Alert every woman in the city with a job that there's a freak on the loose waiting to kill them for not staying home and being a housewife?"

"I don't know. There's got to be something to tie us to someone. Until then, we have to keep an eye out," Mac stated, the sentence more bitter than he meant it to be.

"Well, I'm going to go home and change," Stella said, frustrated, and got up from the chair. "This freak isn't going to keep me from going outside."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Stella," Mac said, and watched as Stella set his dark coat he'd loaned her on the chair. He couldn't explain it, but his instinct told him something wasn't right.

"I'm a big girl, Mac," Stella said, dismissing. "It's not like I'm going to be attacked in my cab, that case is over."

"Damn it, Stella, listen to me!" Mac shouted, rising from his chair. His yell wasn't loud, but the tone and the strength of the sound temporarily stunned her. Mac rarely lost his temper, and when he did, you knew to listen. "This killer got my phone number," Mac said, putting his hands on the desk and leaning forward. "He was taunting this team by leaving us notes. Right now, you've got a big red bulls eye painted on your back and I'm sure as hell not letting you leave _this lab_." he finished, jabbing his finger on the desk.

Stella's anger at the man who killed these women now turned to the man in front of her. "Mac, I've been in a dress and high heels for the past sixteen hours. I haven't slept in twenty-five. I do not have a bulls eye on my back, and I am not going to stay here just because you feel the need to protect me right now! Thank you, but I've felt incapable enough for one morning!" She picked up her bag, walked to the door, and turned back to him. "I'm going home, taking a shower, and if you've managed to realize that I don't need your protection, I'll come back." With a hard tug, Stella whipped open the door and stormed out of the room.

Mac had the urge to chase her down, drag her back, and lock her in his office, but thought better of it. He knew that there'd be hell to pay if he did. Stella liked to keep up that tough, need no one exterior. It was one of the things they had in common. So instead of running after, Mac watched out his window as she hailed a cab and it drove off down the street. Grabbing his phone, he figured he'd call Flack, tell him to keep an eye out at Stella's place. Sure, she'd be mad, but he didn't give a damn if it was her life on the line. Just as he hit the number, he heard his door open and shut his phone, ending the call. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned around to find Lindsay waiting in his office.

"Uh, Mac, we've got something," Lindsay said, standing in the doorway. She seemed hesitant to walk in, and Mac wondered if they'd heard his and Stella's fight. Deciding he didn't care if they'd had, he nodded and followed her out of the office and into the lab.

"We were able to enough on the skin found under Kristin Lockary's fingernails to search for it in the system," she said, leading him to a computer monitor. It seemed to be searching, and then a positive match came up. A picture of a blonde man with dark eyes filled the screen along with a name and record.

"Oh, my," Lindsay said, momentarily stunned. Mac gave her a questioning look, but Danny soon explained.

"That's the guy from the vet clinic," he said, reading the name 'Tyler Robbins' from the screen. "It says here that he was put into the foster care system when he was 12, after his father killed his mother and was sent to prison. Name used to be Tyler Rosseau. How does he link into all this?" Danny finished.

"Hey, Mac," Adam said, walking up with a file. "The rag was from the killer, and was covered with trichloromethane," he stated, handing the file over and then going to the screen. "Whoa, talk about evil eye," he added, referring to the picture of the suspect.

"Wait! Trichloro..." Lindsay said quickly. "I can't believe I didn't realize..."

"Calm down, Montana, what is it?" Danny said, looking at the almost frantic woman before him.

Taking a breath, Lindsay spoke. "At the veterinary office, in the back room were bottles. One said trichloromethane. Pure chloroform. It is used in veterinarian clinics as an anesthetic. How did we miss that?"

"I don't know," Adam said, looking at the two. "But wasn't the van stolen from the clinic?" At Lindsay's nod, he added "Well then, this guy is looking pretty good for murder."

"Okay, so say this guy is our killer, how did he get Mac's number?" Danny turned to look at their boss for an answer, but realized he was no longer there.

"Mac?"

* * *

**Hey, I realize that Mac and Stella may seem a little OC and their fight sprung up out of no where, but hey...I dont need to explain myself to you! No, actually I just watched the episode Officer Blue and the fight in there kinda inspired this. Well, that's all I got... Have a good night**

** ~moviefanatic17**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey everyone, okay this chapter is really short and I'm probably not going to put any of my talkin on the next few chapters. The next few will probably be short, but it was kinda hard to split the story into chapters haha...anyway, I still don't own CSI:NY (except season 1 on DVD...Thank you, EBAY!!). Enjoy and thanks for the reviews.**_

* * *

_

_"Okay, so say this Tyler guy is our killer, how did he get Mac's number?" Danny turned to look at their boss for an answer, but realized he was no longer there. _

_"Mac?"_

The speeding truck was no more than a black blur with screaming red and blue lights as Mac quickly wound his way through the thin New York morning traffic. Flakes of soft snow were falling, but Mac hardly noticed as he raced past. He'd known as soon as the killer's real name came up how serious the situation was.

Mac didn't want to believe that she was in danger again. He wanted to believe the name was only coincidence. _But it was the only way he could have gotten my number._ Mac pushed down harder on the accelerator and heard the Triton's growl under the hood. Grabbing his cell phone, he pressed her speed dial number and waited to hear her voice telling him he was crazy and that she was fine.

-----------------------------------------------

Stella paid the driver and ignored his 'You're nuts, can't you see it's snowing?' look as she left the cab and went into her apartment building. Her feet were killing her and she was about ready to chuck her heels out the door. She was tired, which added another dimension to her bad morning. Not to mention her spat with Mac. He was only trying to keep her safe, Stella knew that. But after her night of needing him, she'd gotten scared. Call it a relapse to her days in the orphanage, but when it came to depending on someone, Stella couldn't trust herself or anyone else. There was always a chance she'd be rejected or hurt, and she didn't miss that feeling at all.

Next thing she knew, Stella was facing the door of her apartment, digging for her keys when a familiar melody filled the quiet. Setting down her bag, she reached into the pocket of her coat and checked the caller ID. _Mac._ Scoffing, she made to put the phone back into her pocket. She really didn't want to hear his voice right now, because it would make her insides squirm and her head spin until she was too dizzy to think up a response.

"You should answer that."

This voice was familiar, but Stella couldn't turn fast enough to see who it was. A hand came from behind her and held a wet rag to her face. She tried to kick, scream, do something, but exhaustion and her damn heels gave her an obvious disadvantage, and she began to feel disoriented. Unlike the dizziness Mac's voice caused, this feeling was sick, forced. Her cell phone had fallen from her hand in her shock, and she tried desperately to reach it. To reach _Mac_. But the room was getting darker, and after one last effort to free herself, she was out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, two things...I realize the chapters are getting shorter and shorter, but I'm trying to make it dramatic haha...Also, I'm going to be out of town for the next two weeks and won't be able to put up another chapter (no internet) so this is gonna be my last post until then, unless I can find internet, which I doubt. But anyway, hope you enjoy this, and no I still don't own it.**

* * *

Mac kept dialing her number until he was almost to her apartment. The building was in sight, and he soon came to a sliding halt in front of the doors. Running full out down the familiar hallways, he didn't stop until he saw her bag lying by the door numbered as her own. Gun drawn, he took a small start and muscled through the door.

"Stella? Stella!" he shouted, running from one room to the next. She wasn't in her bed, bathroom, living room, or closet. Though Mac had doubted she'd be here, he had to know for sure. Returning to the kitchen, Mac heard his phone ring from the pocket of the coat he'd previously loaned that morning. _Stella. _

"Stella, where the hell are you?" he said loudly into the phone. He should have expected it, yet was not ready for the sick voice that replied.

"Oh, hello again Detective Taylor. Your sweet _Detective_ can't answer right now," he taunted.

"You sick son of a bitch. I swear to God, I'll kill you myself if you do anything to her," Mac retorted, his deep voice dripping with hatred.

"She should have known. What right does a woman have to arrest a man? Who does she think she is?" the voice answered. Mac could tell he was mentally troubled, skipping from subject to subject, but didn't give a damn. The only thing that mattered was that he had Stella.

"Where is she, Tyler...or should I call you Ross?" he added, venom emphasizing the name. He couldn't believe Stella hadn't seen something odd in the man that she'd gone to dinner with the night before. Damn it, _he_ should have known something. Mac had vowed that he would keep her safe after her ordeal with Frankie, and was now left with trying to focus the anger at his own failure onto the bastard who had taken one of the few things he had left in his life.

"Oooh, so you found out who I am? I guess it wasn't very hard," Tyler quipped, seemingly careless. "Well Detective, I'm taking this one home. My father would be proud," he said in a dream-like voice. There was a pause on the line before he continued. "And when you find her, it will be you doing the job...a man...the way it should be. Have a good day, Detective." Before the line went dead, Mac could hear a smashing sound. He knew the freak must have thrown the phone out the window.

He didn't even shut his cell phone, but instead hit another number and ran out of the room. Jumping into his pickup, he took off and waited for the other end to answer.

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Danny felt a buzzing in his pocket and grabbed his phone. "Boss, where are yo..."

"Danny," Mac said quickly, and he immediately stopped talking. "Give me any known childhood address for Tyler Rosseau."

"What's this abou..."

"Damn it, Danny, just do it!"

Danny obliged and scrolled down the page of Rosseau's background. "Okay, it says here the Rosseau's lived at 346 Welshare St. Wait, wait, that's in the same compound as the warehouse. Mac, what's this about?" Danny asked, worried.

"The son of a bitch has Stella," came over the line, and then he was gone.

"Shit," Danny swore, and catching Lindsay's worried look, he immediately dialed Flack.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, well I found internet, so here's another chapter...I know theyre short, you don't need to tell me haha, but I thought they would pretty much be the end, but now that I'm finishing writing the end, this suckers gonna end up having about 20 chapters, so we're getting there! Well read, review if ya like, and have a good one.**

** ~moviefanatic17**

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Stella could feel herself being set onto a chair.

She was coming to enough that she was able to open her eyes and take in her surroundings. The building she was in was dark and dusty, with only a small, nasty window to flood in light. Snow was falling outside, but Stella turned away from the window to instead look at her attacker. Her head was still spinning and she couldn't move her legs or arms that were taped behind the chair, but she could clearly make out his face.

"Ross?" she asked, her voice groggy. He looked up at her with a malicious smile as he paced the floor. "What the...you...killer?"

His face was nothing like she remembered. On their date, he'd been so kind, and now he looked at her as if she was the most disgusting thing. His dark eyes were spilling with evil. "Yes, I am."

"My...my coat..." she stumbled, trying to remember. "You took...my coat...my phone...Mac's...Mac's..."

"Took you this long?" he sneered at her. "I should have expected that a woman wouldn't get it." He walked closer and began to talk to her like she was slow in the head. "Yes. I. Did. I took your phone to call Detective Taylor. I wanted him to know about my achievements. And you are my greatest," he said, walking away and pacing again.

Stella could feel her head clearing, but still could not struggle free from the tape. "Why did you...kill those women? Why?"

His face softened as he walked over to the window. "I guess what they say is true...like father, like son. My father killed my mother in this very room. Had me watch. Said it was her punishment. She wanted to get a job, help out the family," he hissed. "My father told her she didn't know her place. Said she didn't appreciate what she had. He was right. So he shot her. I watched as the life left that ungrateful bitch's face. And then we cut her up...but my father was put away...put away by a woman." His face contorted with anger as he turned back to Stella. "You think you can put men in jail? What right do you have? WHAT RIGHT?"

"But...you screwed up," Stella stated, trying to gain fire in her voice. "You left too much of yourself on the second victim."

"You think I did that on accident?" he said, walking up to her and putting his disgusting face up to hers. "I wanted your team to find me. I realized the more clues I left, the better chance they'd have of finding you...learning from your mistake...of course, _you_ couldn't have gotten that on your own," he ended, and Stella was positive that this man had mental disorders not even discovered yet. Still, that was no excuse for the killing of innocent women.

Ross walked to the other side of the room, and Stella knew what would happen next as he took a gun from his side. "What, no clothesline or whisk?" she asked, referring to his previous methods of torture.

"No, _Detective_," Ross said calmly, shaking his head. "This is going to be special. We're going to do a re-creation. Only instead of my father, it will be me. I will show everybody that my father was right. You will learn that you should know your place...and when your beloved Detective Taylor comes, he will know that I was right. That what I've done is right."

Stella willed the tears to stay back. She could not let this bastard see how he got to her. She tried in vain to move as he raised the gun, but the tape held her in its deadly grip.

"Goodbye, _Detective_," Ross spat, and Stella saw him pull the trigger. Closing her eyes, she thought of the peacefulness of her dream, of Mac's face, and waited for the calm of death.


	14. Chapter 14

Mac drove as fast as he could to the abandoned complex across town. Parking behind the veterinarian van, his gut wrenched as he thought of what could be happening to Stella this very minute. Heart racing, he grabbed his gun and ran into the building. Reason had kicked in at some point, and Mac had slowed down from his previous rush. He knew he couldn't just bust in or make too much noise; this psycho could go off at any moment. Reaching the top of the steps, he could hear a voice coming from the room ahead of him.

"...what I've done is right." Mac crept toward the door, and through a crack in the crumbling walls, watched the scene inside. The clamp around his heart loosened slightly when he saw Stella was still alive, and hadn't been tortured like the others, but he also noted that she didn't seem to be able to move. He could see the silver glint of the duct tape around her wrists. Her face was red with fury and Mac would have smiled had there not been a man waiting to kill Stella. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from her and to the shooter. Rosseau was standing across the room, holding the gun and ready to fire.

"Goodbye, _Detective_," the shooter said, and Mac knew it was now or never.

--------------------------------

Stella waited for death...the calm and peace it would bring, the weightless feeling of drifting up into the clouds. But none of that came. Instead, she could only feel the binding tape being cut loose and strong arms grabbing her and picking her up. She opened her eyes to the sight of Ross lying on the floor in a pool of blood, his gun held in his limp hand. She did not scream or cry, but was unable to stop the instinctive shudder that spread through her body. Instinctively wrapping her arms around her rescuer's neck, she looked up at the face that had burned into her mind as she was seconds from death. The face of Mac Taylor, whose shots hadn't missed their mark. His face was like stone, but his eyes spoke volumes. She had never seen so many emotions making their way out of the dark pools. There was anger, relief, pain, and what scared her the most, fear. She didn't know why he was still holding her, but she was grateful, and turned her face into his neck, inhaling his scent. She didn't know why he didn't say something, but she didn't mind so much as long as he was actually there.

Mac carried her quickly down the stairs and out into the soft falling snow. Breathing fresh air again helped Stella to regain some strength and she was able to stand on shaky legs as Mac set her down.

"Mac, thank God you..."

"Stel..."

The whisper was barely audible, but it stopped Stella dead in her tracks. As soon as she heard it, she helplessly watched him fall to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Mac!" Stella screamed, dropping to her knees beside him. She shook him but got no response. His eyes had closed, and she noticed that his face was pale. Desperately trying to wake him or find out what was wrong, her hand brushed against his chest and she felt something warm and wet. Quickly opening his coat, she screamed when she saw three crimson stains rapidly covering the gray shirt below. The bullets hadn't missed after all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone...well, I'm home now and back to my slow web. I wasn't gonna update until later in the week, but since Matt Kenseth won the Daytona 500, I'm in a good mood, so I figured I'd update today! Thanks for all the reviews, and keep them coming! **

**I own nothing of CSI:NY except a copy of the Season 1 DVDs and Season 2 thats in the mail...**

_

* * *

_

She heard the sirens. They were everywhere, surrounding her whole world and all her senses. But one sound, the sound she desperately needed to hear in the chaos, was missing.

Stella was frantically trying to get Mac to wake up. She needed to hear his voice that always comforted her. She needed to look into his eyes and feel safe. She needed to feel his touch filled with tender strength . She waited for him to open his eyes and tell her he was fine, but he just lay there, silently bleeding in the falling snow.

The wailing of an ambulance was breaking the silence, but to Stella it was just a dull noise. She couldn't help but stare at the face she knew so well and take in every line and every mark. The tears she'd held back before spilled over now, landing on his worn skin. His eyes, which always spoke more than the man himself, were now hiding behind dark lids, unable to come out and tell her if he was okay.

She forced herself to look away from his motionless face as two EMT's came and asked her what happened. She tried to say something, but her breathing was too ragged and she couldn't get the words from her mouth, choosing instead to continue clinging to Mac. She felt a hand on her shoulder and Flack's familiar face, holding less strength than usual, reached her ears.

"Stella, come on. Let go," Don said, softly pulling back on Stella's shoulder. She let Flack pull her to her feet and she fell into his arms. Hugging her for a moment, Don led her away from Mac's body.

She felt as if she was in that room again. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. Somehow, her legs managed to carry her to Flack's car, where Angell was standing. She and Flack shared a look and helped Stella to sit down on the seat of the car.

"He...he...saved me, Don..." Stella began, trying to stop crying. "Ross...the killer...he took me....from...my apartment..."

"Stella, it's okay, you don't have to do this right now," Don said softly, but Stella shook her head, inhaling a shaky breath.

"No...he...drugged me...and was...gonna...shoot me. I closed my eyes and waited...but I didn't feel the bullets...I heard the shots...and when I opened my eyes...Mac was...Mac was picking me up...and Ross was dead...He carried me outside...and set...me down...then he fell and I...I..." She couldn't finish, and Flack tried to calm her.

Danny, Lindsay, Adam, and Hawkes came running up just as Mac was being loaded up in the ambulance. They all waited while Stella finished her story and were shocked. They had never seen Stella like this, and they feared for Mac. They stood there until a young EMT walked over to tell them the facts.

"He's still alive, but barely. We're taking him over to Bellevue," he said speaking quickly and turned to make his way back to the ambulance. But before he could get far, he heard a strangled shout from behind him.

"I've got to get there," Stella said, ignoring the hands that came to help her stand. The man turned back around, realized he wouldn't be able to say no, and motioned her forward. She nearly ran to the ambulance, needing to be close to him again. Getting in, she sat on Mac's side as the EMT closed the door and the van started moving.

The EMT's were busy stabilizing him and calling into the hospital. Grabbing his hand, Stella clutched it as though it were the only thing keeping him alive.

"Mac," she whispered, barely audible over the noise around her, "please don't leave me."


	16. Chapter 16

The scalding water raining down heated her body, but its warming effect didn't reach her insides. She didn't think she could ever feel warm, or anything for that matter, again. _Was this how Mac felt after Claire?_ It was unimaginable, like nothing Stella had ever felt before. She rubbed her face and her eyes that had long since run out of tears. She didn't know if she could ever cry again.

Laid out on the bed, the dark dress haunted her. It seemed wrong that a color many had come to associate him with had to be worn on this occasion. This was an officer's funeral after all, meaning she should be piecing together her deep blue uniform. But she wasn't just one of many honoring a fallen comrade this time. He was so much more than just a fellow cop; he was her boss, her mentor, but most of all, he was her friend. _If only we had the chance to be more..._

------------------------------------

The funeral was large. Stella knew that Mac wouldn't have wanted it that way, but a New York City cop always deserved the full service, especially someone as decorated as him. _He wasn't just a cop_, she thought. He was a soldier. He'd been wounded while defending his country. She could remember the scar that sat above his heart, a constant reminder of the service he'd given. The man had been a true hero, all the way up to his death.

Stella drew a shaky breath as she watched people she didn't know walk up to the podium to speak. Most of them were former military personnel, sharing stories of Mac's heroism and courage in the heat of battle. She had been asked to say a few words about Mac, but what could be said? There was so much about him that could never be put into words, so much that no one knew.

Snow was falling as they made their way outside, much like that fateful day. The flakes drifted lazily down on the congregation, covering everything in a layer of white. Taps began to play, and the 21 gun salute began. The shots were fired into the air, but Stella felt like each gun was pointed straight at her heart.

The flag that had been draped over the casket was being folded by some of Mac's former soldiers, and Stella wondered for a moment who it would be given to. She didn't have to guess for long, as the triangle of cloth had soon found its way into her hands, along with Mac's badge.

"He'd have wanted this to be with you," the soldier said, standing back and saluting as she gently traced the emblem on the badge with her thumb. Tears brimmed along her eyes as the man walked away, and she closed them to keep the drops from falling. Behind her, she could feel a hand close on her shoulder and lightly shake her.

"Stella," the voice said quietly, shaking her once more. "Stella, are you okay?"

She opened her eyes and sat up in the chair that she was uncomfortably waiting in and looked at Lindsay. The younger woman was eyeing Stella cautiously as she sat down in the closest waiting room chair, handing her a cup of coffee. Stella took it and sighed.

"I'm fine. Just a bad dream, that's all."

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**Man, oh man, I sure have a thing for dream sequences, don't I? Haha, well just so you know, I never intended to kill off Mac, but thanks for the begging pleas. Like I may or may not have said before, I'm writing this story to fit between 'Taxi' and 'Hostage', so I obviously couldn't kill him! Besides, I don't think the show could go on without Mac...well, there haven't been so many reviews lately, but whatever, if I lost you I lost you...new episode tonight, GO WATCH IT. Haha anyway, have a good night.**

** moviefanatic17**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, thanks for the reviews. I was insanely p-oed at myself, because I accidently set my VCR timer wrong and didn't get to watch the new episode...but next week's looks awesome...oh, and alix33 (i think that's right), I completely agree with you about CSI: Miami - I can't watch that one without laughing! Just like in the episode where they intro'd NY, the building was dark yet in walks Caine with his sunglasses- I mean come on...haha, anyways, yeah, not much excitement in this chap, pretty much a filler. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the show, but my season 2 came in today so I'm pretty excited for that...**

* * *

"Stella, you should really go home and get some rest," Lindsay said softly. She knew the woman beside her hadn't slept in over two days. Really, she didn't blame Stella...she had no idea how she would react to this kind of situation, but she was sure it would be along the same lines as what Stella was doing. "Oh, before I forget," she added, digging through her pocket and pulling out a cell phone. "We picked you up a new one."

Stella took it without really looking and held it between her hands, continuing to stare ahead. Lindsay had seen Stella after the building that Flack and Mac had been in was blown up. She'd seemed so calm and in control even while the two were missing in the rubble, unknown to be dead or alive. She was amazed by Stella's ability to remain neutral through the whole ordeal, and remembered thinking of how Mac had really rubbed off onto her.

But what Lindsay could never have known was the turmoil inside Stella during those horrible hours. Her fear had nearly boiled over when she'd gotten to the scene, but the one thing keeping her sane was the man who could very well have been crushed by tons of concrete and steel. She knew Mac would ignore any personal feelings and do the job. She remembered him telling her during a rape case to use her head, not her heart. Stella had buckled down and worked until he finally emerged. He was bruised and bleeding, but alive. It was then that she'd first known of the scar Mac carried above his heart. It was a reminder of all the things he'd seen and done that Stella couldn't even imagine, and honestly didn't want to.

The arrival of a tall, blonde woman wearing a white coat brought Stella out of her revere. She stood and faced the doctor, ready to hear the news that she could only hope was good.

"Mrs. Taylor?" the doctor asked, and Stella ignored the strange feeling in her stomach. It was a common mistake, and after all, she had come in with him and had been waiting for over four hours.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm Stella Bonasera. We're partners." The woman nodded and Stella tried to read her face. She was dreading the cliché slow shake of the head, followed by her own immediate breakdown, but before that could happen, a nurse walked up and handed the doctor a form. "How's Mac?" she asked, trying to regain the doctor's attention. Apparantly, it was a busy night in the OR.

"Well, given the amount of blood loss and anesthetics he was given, he should be out for a few hours," the woman said, examining the charts and grabbing a pen from her chest pocket.

Stella sighed with relief. "So he's okay?"

The doctor handed back the form to the nurse and gave Stella an apologetic look. "Oh, I'm sorry, of course. Detective Taylor is stable, but critical. The bullets did not hit any vital organs, though how is downright a miracle. The first entered to the right of the ribs along his side. The second caught him just above the right lung, lodging in the scapula." Stella agreed with this in her mind, knowing the pattern of wounds were consistent with Mac running in front of the bullets. "The third passed his heart, but barely. A centimeter to the left, and I'd be giving you much worse news. We'll need to continue monitoring him for the next few days to be sure that nothing was complicated during surgery, but I expect him to make a full recovery. Will you need the bullets for evidence?"

Stella shook her head. They knew who did this, and he'd been taken care of. Mac had seen to that. "Can we see him?"

The doctor nodded and shuffled her clipboard. "We've moved Detective Taylor from the OR to a private room. If you'd like to follow me," she said, turning away.

Stella turned back to Lindsay who shook her head. "I told Danny I'd call him so he could tell the guys how Mac was doing. I'll come back later," she added, walking out of the room and toward the elevators. She knew Stella would want to be alone with Mac, even if she never said it.

She didn't think she could cry anymore than she already had, but when the door closed behind the doctor, Stella could feel the tears on the edge of her lids. Mac had always been the image of strength, of safety. But seeing him lying on a hospital bed, machines hooked to him, and his skin as white as the snow outside made the tears fall from her eyes. He looked so..._vulnerable_. And she was suddenly hit with a sick feeling in her stomach as the last words she'd said to him played through her mind.

_"...when you've realized I don't need your protection..."_

_I hope I get a chance to tell him that I do_, Stella thought, but quickly shook the thought from her mind. She _would_ be able to tell him, because Mac was strong and he would make it through this. Walking over to his side, she gazed at his pale face. All this he'd done to protect her. Laying a hand on his cheek, she gently leaned down and touched her lips to his, knowing full well that it would never be thanks enough.


	18. Chapter 18

There was light. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but he knew it was there. Opening his eyes, he looked around until a hospital room registered in his mind. How he got there, he didn't know. His head hurt, and his chest was itchy. He wanted to scratch it, and began to move his hand when he finally noticed it wasn't empty. Looking down, he realized there was another, smaller hand holding onto his own. Turning his head farther left, he could see someone familiar in a chair at his side. Moonlight was bouncing off her curly hair, and her breathing was even and deep. Looking at her face, Mac remembered.

_He was looking through the crack in the walls. The bastard holding Stella was saying something to her, and he knew he'd have to go in quickly. The man had his gun raised, and was about to pull the trigger. Gripping his own gun tighter, he headed in. He knew that he would be hit, there was no doubt, but he __**had**__ to protect her. He fired off shots as he ran, and felt the impact of the killer's shots hitting him. The killer didn't have a chance to react as he was hit with two bullets to the chest. He didn't even check to see that Rosseau was dead, but instead grabbed his pocketknife and cut the tape binding Stella. Her eyes were still closed, and he wasn't sure if she was still conscious, but she soon proved she was by wrapping her arms around his neck. Picking her up, he carried her down the stairs and could feel her breath against his neck. He knew the threat was gone, but needed to get her out of that room and to safety. His vision began to blur, and he knew that he would fall any minute. Luckily, he made it out the door, where he could see red and blue lights heading to them. Knowing she would be safe, he set her down. She was saying something to him, but he couldn't understand it. Feeling consciousness slipping away, he whispered her name before she disappeared into the darkness._

But here she was again, safe and by his side. As if sensing he was looking at her, Stella stirred and opened her eyes. She was not expecting him to be up, but when her eyes focused she was met by the deep, dark orbs. The blackness of the room made them seem darker than ever, and the moonlight from the window behind her made them sparkle. She quietly gasped, and sat up in her chair.

"Mac," she said, grasping his hand between her two. "Thank God, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Honestly, he wasn't sure, but he supposed 'like I've been shot' would about sum it up. "How long have I been here?" he asked. He looked around, then added "How long have _you_ been here?" He knew she wasn't getting good sleep on that chair, and could see dark bags under her eyes. But she still looked beautiful to him.

"It's Monday night. You came in yesterday afternoon," she answered, ignoring his second question. Mac nodded, and Stella felt she should continue, but didn't know how. "You were, uh, shot three tim..."

"I remember," he said quickly, stopping her following words. The look in her eyes was worse than any pain of being shot, and Mac wanted her to know that this was not her fault.

Stella was grateful that he cut her off, but felt like she needed to thank him, or apologize, or something. As she was about to open her mouth, he cut her off again. "How long do I have to stay here? I need to get back to work, and this is no..."

Stella laughed softly and shook her head at him. "Mac, you just woke up from surgery. You won't be getting out of here until the doctors are finished with you, and that's final. Don't worry," she added, "I'll stay here with you."

Looking back from where snow was softly falling outside, he stated "You don't need to do that, Stella." She had always been the one to remind him to sleep, to eat, to leave work once in a while, and he'd always been grateful for it, but he wanted her to rest after everything that happened to her.

"I know," she replied, and curled back up in the chair. She was still holding his hand, and he smiled as her eyes slowly closed. Mac tried to stay awake, but the drugs were taking affect and his own eyes soon closed. He hated hospitals with a passion, but with Stella near, he could get by.

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I needed to put in some Stella-love in this one, because a lot of the story has been showing how Stella likes Mac, but not how Mac feels about Stella...maybe being a girl makes it easier for me to write from Stella's POV, I don't know...Reviews are great, so thanks to all the people who give em! I'll prolly update soon, seeing as there's not much happening at the moment.


	19. Chapter 19

Stella woke to bright sunlight filtering into the hospital room. Standing up from the chair, she gave a large stretch and yawned. It had been a long night, with nurses constantly coming and going to check on him and ask her if she needed anything. But at least Mac had finally woken up. Turning around, she half expected him to be wide awake and looking at her. But not even Mac Taylor was immune to the drowsiness of the morphine, and he was sound asleep. Stella took this chance to look him over. She'd rarely seen him sleep, or even close his eyes for that matter. His voice asking her "What's sleep?" floated to the top of her mind, and she gave a small chuckle.

His breathing was slightly ragged and there were large dressings covering his bare chest. Taking her eyes from his chest, she kissed him lightly on the cheek and left a note with Amanda, a nurse who'd been very friendly to her over the past day. Heading into the office, Stella knew it wouldn't feel right without Mac there.

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Danny was walking down the hallways of the lab, watching as the usual workers and people walked and talked within them. But something was off today, and everyone could tell. But then again, things usually were when your boss had just been nearly killed and was in the hospital. Seeing Stella walking up the steps brought him out of his musings, and he flagged her down.

"Stella," he said, falling into step beside her, "Hey, how's Mac?"

"He's alright," she said, noticeably slower than her usual self. Danny knew that she'd spent the night at the hospital, and from what Lindsay had said, he knew that Stella would be there every night until Mac was out.

"Me and Flack were gonna go see him later," he said, then opened the folder in his hands. Hesitating, he read down the page. "I, uh, got some more background on our Tyler Rosseau. Turns out he was schizophrenic, second generation. We checked his apartment and he had three full prescription bottles of clausopene. Looks like he wasn't taking his meds. His dad killed...well, you know. But anyway, that's probably why he seemed so normal when you two were out..."

"Look Danny," Stella said, stopping. "I should have known that there was something wrong about him. I just thought he was being sweet, taking my coat, asking about my job, my co-workers. I should have known though, and look what I've done."

"Stella, you can't blame yourself for this. This guy was nuts and there was no way you could have known that your date would try to kill you. Mac doesn't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself."

Stella gave Danny a small smile, and started walking again. "Maybe I'll catch you later at the hospital."

"You going now?" Danny asked, and Stella shook her head.

"I have to get something first."

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One...two...three...four...five...

The ceiling tiles became boring, as had everything else in his room. Mac didn't understand why he couldn't just leave. The doctor had come in, and she had told him that no bullet hit a vital organ. So what was the big deal? Flesh wounds was all they were, and if he was still in the service, he'd be patched up and back out with a gun in his hands. When he tried to convince the doctor that he was fine to leave, she told him he had one more day, and after that he was off field work for three months. Mac figured one was too much, but didn't tell her that. He knew he could con Sinclair into getting the hospital to allow him back on field work in two at the most, especially since they were shorthanded as it was. Until then, he'd be stuck with paperwork, which was one constant. Making a note to talk to Sinclair, he waited as the nurses and doctor pulled off the bandages on his chest.

The bullets had left their mark, and now they would stay with him forever. Since he'd stopped bleeding, Mac had convinced the doctor to leave the bandages off for a while. He swore they couldn't use an itchier cloth for the bandages, and was constantly scratching at the stitches. At least the room was warm, opposed to the sunny but cold weather outside and they hadn't reduced him to wearing a gown. At least he maintained some dignity.

Hearing a noise at the door, Mac turned and saw Stella. A smile crossed his face and he knew he must have looked desperate for company as she returned it. Walking over to his side, she took over the chair she'd slept in the night before.

"How you feeling, Mac?"

"Alright. Doctor said I'll be out of here tomorrow," he said with a half smile, but noticed she wasn't looking at his face. Following her gaze, he saw she was staring at the freshly stitched wounds, now uncovered, and suddenly wished he hadn't insisted on the nurses taking off the bandages. "They look worse than they are," he added, and her gaze snapped up to his. Looking into her eyes, Mac tried to tell her that he was fine, and that it wasn't her fault. Others spoke with their mouths, but as he'd once been told, he spoke with his eyes. And if anyone could hear them, it would be Stella.

"Hey," she started, trying to lighten the mood. She stood and walked to the door. "I brought you something," she said, stepping into the hallway while keeping the door open.

"A letter saying I can get out of here today?" he said to the open door. After receiving a scolding look from one of the chuckling nurses, Mac watched as Stella came back in, holding a familiar jet black guitar.

"I figured you might need something to do," she said, handing it to him. Stella could tell he was trying to hide a smile as he took it and laid it on his blanketed lap. "I cleared it with the nurses," she added. "As long as there's no heavy metal or playing after ten, you'll be fine," she listed off with a smile.

"Thanks, Stella," he said, and gave her a lingering stare. Just as she was feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, his gaze returned to the bass and he began to play softly, most likely something he performed at Cozy's. Stella watched and listened as Mac played, losing herself in the quiet music.

"Now if you can play 'Radar Love', you'd be set," Danny said, walking in with Flack and Lindsay. Mac stopped as Flack and Danny came to his side.

"I can," he said with a smile, reaching over to shake Flack's hand. But the IV held his right arm back, so he awkwardly reached over with his left.

"How you doing, Mac?" Flack asked, shaking the man's hand then stepping back. It felt odd, having the roles reversed. Before it was him laying in the bed with Mac visiting. The older man was visibly paler, but obviously didn't want to be in the hospital, as he sat up further after being hugged by Lindsay.

"I'd be better if they'd let me out," he said, still holding the guitar. He felt sort of strange that they'd all came to visit him in the hospital, as he wasn't used to being cared for so much.

"You stop that," Stella said, as she stood from her chair. "You're going to stay as long as you need to. We can cover the lab without you for a few days."

"I'm out of here tomorrow, and back in the lab tom...Thursday," he said after a quick look at Stella. Lindsay couldn't help but grin at the two, noticing the exchange. The men, of course, were completely oblivious and just continued talking with Mac.

"I'm going to get coffee," Stella said, walking to the door.

"I'll come with," Lindsay said, following her out. As soon as the door shut, Danny turned to Mac with a grin.

"So, Mac, how 'bout 'Radar Love'?"

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**Well, this chapter's not exactly full of drama, but I just wanted to put in some of the team here...and I have nothing against Hawkes, Adam, or Sid, its just that it woulda been hard to work all of them in at once haha..yeah, this idea just came to me when I was watching 'Stuck on You' from Season 2 and I thought it was so cool how Mac played the guitar and 'Radar Love' has some of the best bass guitar parts in it, so yeah...look it up, its a great song by Golden Earring...anyway, thanks for the reviews, keep em coming, and have a great night.**

**P.S. *I guess this is a spoiler* : the eyeball episode was great, but damn Mac for getting sucked back into Ella's sob story! **


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey there, I was gonna update sooner, but I lost my info plugger thingy, so here it is a little late. Thanks for all the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY.**

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The next morning as Stella was stepping out of the elevator, she saw Amanda at the nurse's station and walked over.

"Is this safe?" she asked, holding up one of the two cups of coffee she'd carried in.

"Yeah, that's fine," she said, giving the detective a smile. "He was taken off the IV this morning, so there shouldn't be any kind of reaction with the drugs."

"Hey," Stella began, leaning closer to the nurse. "Is it for sure that he is good to go home?" She knew that Mac would find his way to do things on his terms, even if it wasn't in the best interests.

"To be honest, we'd ordinarily keep him for a few more days...make sure that the wounds are healing and there are no complications. But Detective Taylor is set on leaving today, so we signed off with his promise to come in next week to check up."

"That sounds like Mac," she said, smiling a goodbye and walking down the hall to Mac's room. Quietly opening the door, she walked inside, expecting to see Mac resting or sitting up, watching TV. But the room was empty. _Maybe he's being checked in another room_, she thought. Deciding that had to be it, she walked over to the bedside table and was about to set the coffee down when she heard a door open behind her. She spun around and saw Mac coming out of the bathroom. Naked.

"Stella?" Mac asked in a strangely higher voice than normal. He wanted nothing more than to run back into the bathroom and hide, but that was a little too dramatic. This was not good...Stella, here and looking beautiful, while he was wearing only a pair of thin boxer shorts. _Damn it, Taylor, mind out of the gutter._

Stella had nearly fallen in her haste to turn around as Mac walked in. Mac wasn't naked, but he might as well have been. Those boxers left little to the imagination. _Ugh, quit acting like a hormonal teenager!_

"Mac, I...um, brought you coffee," she said stupidly, trying to ignore the burning in her face.

Mac was dealing with a similar problem, but used the time her back was turned to reach the chair where his duffel bag sat and pull on a pair of sweats. "I thought you'd be coming, uh, later," he said, sticking one leg into the pants.

"Yeah, well I was on my way out and the lab is slow, so I figured I'd come over," she said, still speaking to the window. The heat was leaving her face, and she was grateful for that.

"It's safe, Stel," he said, and pulling on a t-shirt as she turned around. He followed her gaze to the duffel bag and saw the question in her eyes. "Flack stopped by my place, picked up some things for me."

Stella nodded, then sat down on the side of his bed. "Mac, are you sure you should be going home today, I mean..."

"Stel, look, I know you're just looking out for me, and I appreciate it. But if I spend another night here, I'll go crazy," he said, and the tone of his voice broke down Stella's reasoning and he knew it.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

A small smile tipped the corners of his mouth as he simply shrugged and grabbed his things.

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An hour later found the two stepping out of a cab in front of Mac's apartment. He gazed down the street and could see his truck. Deciding to break the silence that had settled over them in the cab, he spoke.

"Hey, my truck's back. I'd almost thought you might have claimed it as your own by now," he said, waiting for her response. But when one didn't come, he turned back to look at her and was faced with the curly top of her head. She was looking straight down at the ground and standing silent. Dropping the fun, his voice picked up a note of concern as he asked "Stel, what's wrong?"

"I do, Mac," she said, still looking at the ground. He was confused, but waited for her to continue. "That day I was taken, I... I need you, Mac. Without you, I wouldn't be here."

Mac's heart was shattering as she spoke, and he wanted nothing more than to take all the hurt away from her in that moment. Softly, he reached forward and lifted her chin, pained to see small wet lines running down her face from her bright green eyes.

"Stella," he said quietly, "you're the strongest person I know. Never doubt yourself about that. You've kept me going countless times and I only hope I can try to repay you. If you should need help, I'm always here," he said, pulling her into his arms. She buried her head in his coat as he held her tight.

This was their job, the way it would always be. There would always be a brush with death, triggering all the emotions they'd buried so deep inside. And as all the feelings boiled just under the surface, they would be smothered before having the chance to erupt. But could they afford to continue such a risky pattern?

"Don't leave me, Mac," Stella whispered, picking up her head to look at his face. His usually stoic exterior was punctured, and he looked at her with something in his eyes Stella had never seen before. His head dipped and she closed her eyes.

Mac softly kissed her cheek, and leaned farther forward to whisper in her ear.

"Never."

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**Okay, I'm not a doctor and I know that they wouldn't let a guy out of the hospital 3 days after taking 3 bullets, but I was running out of things for them to do in a hospital. Personally I think this chapter is bipolar, because it starts out with a akward moment (I couldn't resist) and ends with a serious moment, but hey. Well, have a good one.**

** moviefanatic17**


	21. Epilogue

_EPILOUGE_

She had driven like a bat out of hell with Flack to get to the family. She didn't want to think about what would happen to the poor little girl and her mother if they didn't get there on time. Sliding to a halt, Stella ran out of the truck and grabbed her gun, ready for anything. There was no car in the driveway, but what self respecting criminal would just leave their car in plain sight, anyway?

Running up the stairs, they got the signal to enter and broke down the door. Being an investigator, Stella could immediately tell something was wrong. The house was...empty. Not sparsely decorated, but bare bones empty. It wasn't possible that someone would live here, and she highly doubted the kidnapper/bank robbers were also into furniture stealing. That only left one option. Joe had tricked them, and now he had Mac.

The morning was not your typical workday, and Stella arrived at the scene after it had begun. Hostage situations were never good, but it wasn't until Flack informed her that Mac had gone in that she'd worried. She had worked with the teams outside, buying time, and all the while inwardly cursing Mac for being so stupid as to walk into the hands of a crazed bank robber claiming he wasn't a murderer. After all, he had just gotten back on field work from his injuries, and Stella thought this was a hell of a way to start again.

It had been good to talk to Mac for the few seconds before being abruptly cut off from him. And after Mac had sworn Joe was the real victim, he got in a car and drove the robber out of the hands of the police and delivered himself into those of a criminal. And as Stella climbed into the helicopter to help with the search, she couldn't help but bring herself to remember the already broken promise Mac had given her.

**_THE END_**

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**Well, that's all folks! It's been a fun ride and all, and I hope you guys have enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. By the way, this is the taken from 'Hostage', as my story was written to fit between Taxi and Hostage...while it has benefits, the sucky part is that I couldn't write in any real SMack like kissing or any of the other good stuff we all want to see. Well, thanks for the reviews, and I'll see ya later.**

**P.S. I wanted to put a little Apollo 13 love in here, because its a great movie and it has Gary Sinise, so....**

**This is moviefanatic17, signing off.**


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